Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“Ye ken,” Darragh said, his lips right against Amelia’s ear, so he could be heard over the horse’s hooves digging into the dirt, “ye nae givin’ me yer full name makes me even more curious about yer identity.”
A prickle of discomfort whispered up her spine. She forced her breathing to steady. Picking a point in the distance to watch, she cleared her throat.
“Remain curious,” she said stiffly, her fingers holding onto the creature’s mane as she tried pointlessly to put distance between herself and Darragh on the saddle. It was hard to focus on anything but him.
“I’m nae a man that sits comfortably in me curiosity,” he replied, the word vibrating in his chest and transferring to Amelia’s back. “I like to get answers.”
The way he said it was almost teasing. If it weren’t for what she’d overheard at the seamstress’s shop, the new fear that it awakened in her chest, she might even find it amusing. Now, she simply felt trapped, cornered even.
“That’s unfortunate,” she said, frowning even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m nae givin’ ye any further information on me. Just kennin’ ye can call me Amelia will have to be enough.”
He grunted, the sound nearly a laugh. His body pressed forward, his raw strength spiking fear and something she couldn’t quite name in her gut. She set her jaw, maintaining her own posture stubbornly.
After a few moments of silence, the only sounds were the crunch of dirt beneath them and the wind whipping past them. It would have been peaceful if it weren’t for the looming threat of being imprisoned once more. Then, suddenly, they veered off course.
“Where are we goin’?” she demanded.
“Ye seem tense,” he explained, expertly guiding the horse through a thicket of trees. “There’s a bonnie wee pond just through here. We can make a brief stop before returnin’ to the castle.”
“Ye’re nae afraid of me runnin’ away?” she challenged, only half-considering the possibility.
“If ye do, I’ll catch ye again,” Darragh replied with a low laugh. “But I doubt ye’re goin’ to attempt it.”
“Nae yet,” she scoffed, smiling despite herself.
A few minutes later, the aforementioned pond came into view. The clearing was a gorgeous, vibrant green. At the edges of the water, a few birds were drinking.
Darragh dismounted first, grabbing onto her waist and helping her to the ground before she had a chance to protest. When her feet were firmly on the grass, she said, “I could have gotten down on me own.”
“I ken,” he replied, gesturing for her to follow him, “but I would hate to see ye roll an ankle because of uneven ground.”
She huffed but walked beside him. As those words she overheard echoed in her mind, she decided that she should enjoy each moment of freedom she could. Besides, she had to admit to herself that he was correct about the pond. It was bonnie.
“Perhaps,” he said lightly as they walked in a slow, lazy circle around the edge, “ye’re Amelia of Inverness.”
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, nearly tripping over a root protruding from the ground. Darragh reached for her, helping her regain her balance. Once she was righted, she shook his hand off.
“Nae, that’s nay me name,” she said, paying more attention to her footing as they moved.
“Ach, I suppose it’s nae,” he agreed thoughtfully. “Or maybe ye’re called Amelia of Skye.”
This time, Amelia didn’t respond. She looked ahead, watching as birds swooped in front of them. Their song was so pleasant, filtering through the air free and unrestrained. She envied them and the lives they lived, no fear of being caged, only the open sky and fresh air.
“I ken what yer name is,” he declared, seemingly set on interrupting the peace. “Amelia of stubborn silence.”
Ach, that was almost humorous. It’s a shame that I’m nae in the mood for his attempts.
She turned her head toward him slightly, careful of where she placed her feet, and asked, “Do ye enjoy hearin’ yerself talk?”
“Aye,” he replied without hesitation, an arrogance slipping into his voice that made Amelia’s skin feel too tight. “Someone has to fill the silence since ye refuse.”
She exhaled slowly, turning back toward the path. It seemed as if her irritation only made him more pleased. She gritted her teeth, refusing to rise to his bait.
“Perhaps ye could give me a hint since ye’re nae goin’ to make this easy for me, or tell me outright,” Darragh suggested after a few moments. “Otherwise, I’ll just keep guessin’.”
“Ye already decided for me,” she said, his presence grating on her nerves. She’d always considered herself to be a patient person, but at the moment, she was at the very end of her stores.
“Did I?” he asked, and she could see him inclining his head toward her as they made a gentle turn around the pond.
They were nearly on the other side now, the horse leaning down to graze in the strong grass. She was aware of the way Darragh was waiting for her response, but she stayed quiet. The walk was quickly turning into another annoyance. She just wanted to be back at the castle and out of his presence.
But I’m still goin’ to be in his presence since the keep is his.
“Amelia?” he pressed, a snarky smile in his voice. The sound of her name coming out of his mouth made her shudder. “Did I?”
“Aye,” she gritted out, her voice chillingly cool.
“And what was that?” he asked, apparently unable to leave her be.
She didn’t speak again. Hot rage boiled in her blood. His playfulness when her life was in his hands felt entirely inappropriate. Not only that, he was behaving in this way, knowing that he was going to use this information and return her to her father. It was nearly enough to make her sick.
“Ach, I see. Amelia of stubborn silence it is, then,” he said, the tone bordering on mocking, as if he had reason to be upset with her.
She stopped walking then, her entire body blazing with fury. Her entire body shook. The anger within her was pointed, protecting something much more fragile below the surface. Two steps later, Darragh stopped, turning around with his head tilted slightly to the side in a silent question.
He’s nay idea what it’s like to be a reminder of yer father’s most humiliatin’ mistake. To be nay more than an inconvenience stanin’ in the way of his true heir.
The birds seemed to sense the tension, their song fading away. The only sound was Darragh and Amelia’s tense breathing and the soft lapping of the pond. Then, the leaves crunched under his feet as he faced her fully.
“Until ye decide to behave like a person instead of a feral cat,” he said, stepping forward deliberately, apparently not noticing the complete shift in Amelia’s demeanor, “that’s what I’ll call ye.”
She stared at him, taking in a deep shuddering breath. It wasn’t enough to quell the frustration and desperation that bubbled up and then spilled over. Without thinking, her body moved forward, and she shoved Darragh. Hard.
The entire world slowed down. Her arms stayed extended as his body shifted back slightly. He hadn’t been expecting the contact, so his feet weren’t anchored. And, perhaps, she was stronger than she anticipated herself being.
He fell, hitting the surface of the pond with a dramatic splash, and then he disappeared. For half a second, Amelia stood there, staring at what she’d done. Then, her survival instinct kicked in, and she turned to run.
* * *
The cold plunge was a shock to Darragh’s senses. He sucked in a deep breath before his body was fully submerged. Then, almost immediately, he found his footing.
When he emerged from the water, all of his patience and playfulness were gone. He knew that Amelia was fiery, that she was difficult, but this had crossed the line. If she would refuse to use her words and resort to childish actions, he could do the same.
His eyes shot to the place where she had been standing, finding it empty. A roar of fury tore from his throat as he waded out of the water. He scanned the tree line with a predator’s precision, spotting her back retreating into the forest.
“Ye’re nae pushin’ me in the water and then runnin’ away,” he growled, taking off running.
She may have had a head start on him, but it didn’t take Darragh long to catch up to the girl. He was a warrior, trained for tracking and reconnaissance. Amelia, whether lowborn or raised in a laird’s hall, lacked that sort of physical endurance.
“What were ye thinkin’?” he demanded, catching her arm and pulling a squeak from the girl. “Pushin’ me in the water and runnin’ off? Do ye want to get yerself killed?”
“And who out here would kill me other than ye?” she snarled.
“That’s enough,” he snapped furiously.
In an effortless motion, he picked Amelia up, balancing her on his shoulder. She kicked, her feet slamming into his thighs. Her fists beat uselessly against his back, but he was unmoved. She was far from the strongest enemy he’d faced.
“Put me down!” she demanded as he carried her back to the horse, water dripping from his doublet and trews.
“So ye can try to run away again?” he asked, his boots squelching with each step. “I’m afraid that I cannae allow ye to do that. Ye’ve just proven to me that I cannae trust ye.”
She let out an indignant huff, continuing to struggle all the way to the horse.
With each step he took, it became more and more apparent to him that for her own safety, he’d have to tighten his control on her.
He had no idea who her family was or if they were looking for her, and he still hadn’t had an opportunity to investigate the reason for a rival clan riding through his territory.
It’s like she’s doin’ everythin’ in her power to get herself killed out here.
When they reached the horse, he kept Amelia balanced on his shoulder. Expertly, he dug into the saddlebag, producing a length of rope. Then, with a swiftness that he could tell she wasn’t expecting, he settled her onto the saddle and bound her wrists to it.
“What are ye doin’?!” she demanded, beginning to struggle but stopping when he tightened the restraints.
“I’m makin’ sure ye daenae try to run off again before we get back to the castle,” he explained. “I’ve already told ye, I cannae trust ye.”
“And how am I to ken I can trust ye?” she snapped as he climbed into the saddle behind her.
“I’m the man that rescued ye from that tower,” he said, digging his heels into the horse’s sides and propelling them back toward the path. “And I’m keepin’ ye fed and clothed and safe. Ye daenae seem to appreciate that because ye’re stubborn and set on doin’ everythin’ yerself.”
“At least I ken me own motivations,” she argued, leaning forward as if she were trying to get away from him even now, even when she was tied to him.
“And that,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “is precisely why ye willnae be leavin’ the castle walls again. Ever.”